


Five Days

by AquaAurion



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Aged up characters, Gokudera's worst enemy is himself, M/M, they are still in the mafia but are studying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-02
Updated: 2016-09-10
Packaged: 2018-06-05 23:18:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 18,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6727441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AquaAurion/pseuds/AquaAurion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Gokudera took a deep breath as he stepped onto the campus grounds, heart pounding and the palms of his hands moist with sweat. He had never been this nervous in his life, despite his confident words to Yamamoto the night before." <i>Gokudera wonders how long it will take before people figure out who's wearing the ring that matches Yamamoto's.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Day One - part 1

**Author's Note:**

> I was going to wait until the story was finished, but figured it didn't really matter =P  
> [Original](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/11307243/1/Five-Days) on my ff account

Gokudera took a deep breath as he stepped onto the campus grounds, heart pounding and the palms of his hands moist with sweat. He had never been this nervous in his life, despite his confident words to Yamamoto the night before. It was not himself he worried about, he doubted anyone taking the same courses would notice a difference, but Yamamoto on the other hand…

He sighed in frustration and ran his fingers through his silver locks, his other hand reaching into the pocket of his jeans to pull out his lighter and cigarettes. He lit one and took a drag, relaxing slightly as he did so.

People were bound to notice that Yamamoto, who never wore any jewelry, suddenly donned a ring on his finger. Even if it was not on his ring finger, Gokudera would not have that, people were bound to start wondering. He doubted that anyone would connect it to the matching one that he had, he always wore a lot of rings and bracelets after all. Most of the students were probably not even aware of the fact that they knew each other. Gokudera knew that he was rather famous at the university because of his academic skills, but he was known as the unsociable foreigner that would not speak to anyone unless there was a group project. Yamamoto, on the other hand, was too popular for his own good and soon enough people would start looking, trying to figure out just _who_ had captured his heart. While Gokudera was used to being admired from afar, Yamamoto’s friendly nature had the young women swarming around him and rumors had been going on for quite some time that he was seeing someone.

He took another drag, slowly blowing out the smoke as he started walking towards his classroom. Yamamoto had morning practice today, so the word had probably already started spreading. The baseball team was popular and a large portion of the students would come to look at them before their lectures began. Gokudera never went himself, though he would go to watch the games where there was a larger crowd, since he preferred to go unnoticed. If he showed up during practice people were bound to get the impression that he actually wanted to socialize. He was perfectly content _not_ doing that and he only needed one babbling idiot without any sense of personal space in his life.

As he neared the building in which he had his lecture other students started showing up, eagerly chattering with their friends. Feeling slightly nauseous, Gokudera leaned against the rough concrete wall, desperately inhaling to the point his cigarette was glowing. He needed to calm down now, or people would definitely notice that something was odd. He pinched the bridge of his nose and took another sharp breath. Gokudera knew he was overreacting, but the prospect of the whole school finding out suddenly felt a lot more threatening now than when they had decided upon this whole thing.

He knew that he could simply take off the ring, shove it into his pocket and there would be nothing for him to fret over. He ran his thumb over the shiny surface, twirling the ring back and forth as he contemplated the idea. As much as Gokudera wanted to avoid drawing attention it was not his thing to simply back out. Especially not after weeks of planning and effort put into the design. This was something he had wanted to for Yamamoto and for his own sake as well. Gokudera knew he was not as attentive and caring as he would have liked to be, not that the other male seemed to mind, so this was his way of giving something back. Even if no one else figured it out, Yamamoto would know. That was all that mattered. Encouraged by the thought, he snuffed out his cigarette against the wall, deciding it was time to go to the lecture before the bell rang.

Gokudera had simply assumed that the ones taking the same courses as him had not watched the morning practice as there had been no whispering, but when second period also passed without any mention of the baseball player he had gotten confused. Were the students in his faculty that uninterested in rumors? Maybe Yamamoto had forgotten his ring in the morning? No, he had not noticed it when he got up and Yamamoto might be clueless sometimes, but he was not forgetful. There was only one way of knowing.

When the bell rang, signaling the end of the second period, Gokudera had already packed up his things and darted out of the classroom. He sped towards the other side of campus, where Yamamoto had his classes. He took the shortest way, which meant going up a steep slope, trying to stay in the shade as he cursed the Japanese summer. The humidity that came with the rain season had not yet arrived, but the sun was blazing down upon him and made him sweat from the slightest physical exertion. He took the incline in long strides, deciding that it was better just to get done with it instead of going slowly and trying to avoid getting overheated. It was bound to happen anyway. He walked close to the trees lining the slope, trying to stay in the shade as much as possible.

By the time he reached the top of the incline, Gokudera was panting heavily and could feel sweat trickling down his neck. Gathering the silver strands of hair, he tied it back with one of the hair ties he always carried around his wrist. The school grounds were now bustling with life as people searched for a place to enjoy their meals. He could see the line to the cafeteria already stretching well outside the building and thanked the heavens that he was not buying lunch today. It was usually not the case, but on the days he did, he would wait until near the end of the break and then scarf down his food before sprinting to class. Gokudera walked towards one of the brick houses and headed inside after having stopped by a vending machine to get an iced coffee.

There were only ACs in the classrooms, but it was still refreshing to step into the building, away from the scorching rays of sunlight. The corridors were practically empty now, the only sound being his own footsteps bouncing off the walls. He stepped into a side corridor and after casting a quick glance around him, he opened one of the doors and slipped inside.

Gokudera gently closed the door behind him, locking it with a soft click. The room was small and only contained two tables that had been pushed together with two chairs on each side. The single window faced one of the many courtyards of the building. He knew that there were tables lining the sides of the courtyard and that the table right by the window was the usual lunch spot for part of the baseball team.

He had not intended to stalk Yamamoto. By chance he had one day, when searching for a place to have lunch, discovered that the small study room everyone believed to be locked, in fact was not so. It just happened that Yamamoto and his closest friends from the team would enjoy their meal right outside the window.

He left the lights off. There really was no need since the sun shone brightly today, its warm rays dancing across the wall adjacent to the window. Turning on the lights would only alert people of the room being in use, something that he wanted to avoid. He could find another place to eat, but this was his sanctuary, a safe haven which he could always retreat to. He even refrained from going there every day in order to prevent anyone from discovering his little secret.

Gokudera quietly stalked over to the window, opening it ever so slightly, before sitting down at the table. He reached into his bag for his lunchbox, courtesy Yamamoto, and started eating as he waited for the baseball players to arrive. He kept on glancing towards the window, heart hammering in his chest, even though he was unable to see the table outside from where he was seated. He was not nervous, at least not like this morning, and if he had to describe the feeling it was something akin to excitement. Gokudera realized that part of the reason he had decided to listen in on the conversation was because he was curious to see if anyone had noticed.

Yamamoto’s friends did not disappoint. There were shuffling sounds and laughter as they claimed their usual table, but silence quickly spread. There was a sense of expectance in the air and Gokudera imagined they had all turned to look at Yamamoto.  
   “So, Yamamoto." The tone of the voice suggested that it was accompanied with a teasing smirk. “Is there a special someone who’s sporting a ring matching yours?” the air was heavy with anticipation and he could tell that they had been dying for an answer to that question all morning. He was happy that they had the decency to wait until the entire team was not listening in on them.  
   “Yes, there is!” Yamamoto sounded as if he had been just as eager, if not more so, as them for that question to come. He was definitely flashing one of those goofy grins of his. Cheers erupted at the table and words flew out in an indecipherable mess. He could only discern a few words until Yamamoto spoke up again. “They are very pretty!” Gokudera scoffed slightly at the comment. He preferred ‘handsome’ if an epithet was to be given. His musings were interrupted by an incredulous exclamation.  
   “Five years?!” The person in question sounded absolutely scandalized. “You’ve been dating for five years and haven’t thought about introducing us?” He could hear agreeing murmurs from the other players.  
   “Haha, calm down.” It was odd hearing Yamamoto using that tone on anyone other than himself. “I’d love to introduce you guys, but they are not really a people person.” Although being slightly offended at first, Gokudera supposed that it was a rather good way of describing himself.

It was not that he did not like having people around him, given that they were the _right kind_ of people, which mostly consisted of Yamamoto and Tsuna. It was not his fault that people with a lower intellectual level aggravated him beyond reason and that there seemed to be an abundance of them. In order to avoid socializing with such people he kept contact outside his circle of acquaintances to a minimum and  preferred to be left alone most of the time.

The other baseball players seemingly calmed down after that and the conversation gradually shifted to other topics, most of them relating to baseball. Having lost interest in the group, Gokudera continued with his lunch, only half listening to their playful banter.


	2. Day One - part 2

The rest of his classes proceeded in the same uneventful manner as before lunch and Gokudera spend his time only half listening to the professors, lazily scribbling down notes. He knew that he should be paying more attention, but the heat, the _goddamn heat_ that would not let him out of its grasp, was making him feel sluggish. His brilliant mind could not begin to fathom how anyone could find the idea of only using the AC to a minimum, now that the sun blazed as if the flames of hell were descending upon them, even remotely justifiable.

Slinging his bag over his shoulder, Gokudera left the classroom of his last lecture for the day. He stifled a yawn against the back of his hand and started his descent from campus. He walked slowly down the concrete path, paying no mind to the stream of students heading the same way. The ground started to level out for each step he took and he entered the residential area just below the school premises. Soon the voices died down as the other students disappeared around a corner, being far too eager as they headed towards their after school activities to hold the same leisure pace as him. Taking a deep breath, Gokudera leaned his head back and gazed up at the sky. A light breeze swept up the hill and he relished in the cool wind as it caressed his face, playfully tugging his silver locks. For a moment his steps faltered and he simply stood there, enjoying the stillness around him. Then another group of chattering students came down behind him and the spell was broken.

As he neared the train station, Gokudera stepped onto one of the less busy streets. Quickly scanning it for traffic, he crossed over and walked into the convenience shop located at the corner. He almost sighed in relief as the cold air swept over him upon entering the store. As usual he headed over to the magazine section that allowed him to gaze out over the street and grabbed one at random. Gokudera glanced at the cover in order to ensure he did not end up with something completely undignified. He had done that mistake once, ending up with scantily clad women right in his face, and was not keen on reliving that particular moment. Pulling it up he slowly flicked through it, pretending to read while his eyes studied the people who passed by outside. It was part of his and Yamamoto’s routine. Gokudera would wait in the shop until Yamamoto showed up and if he was alone he would go out to meet him, if not he would simply wait for a while before going home on his own.

Two magazines later Gokudera started to feel restless. Yamamoto sure was taking his sweet time today. He dug one of his hands into his pocket, fiddling with his keys and some loose change. His fingers curled around his lighter, trailing over the engraved details. Absentmindedly, he returned the magazine and patted his other pocket. Maybe he should get another pack. Teeth scraping against his lip, Gokudera glanced at the register, contemplating. He still had some left in his pack and they should last for quite a while if he kept up his current consumption. But getting a new one would not hurt. It was not like he _had_ to smoke them. He could just buy it and have it lying around in case he needed a smoke. Judging by how his mind had treated him this morning, he sure could use it. Before Gokudera’s feet started to move towards the register, however, his trail of thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock on the window. He turned his head and was greeted by one of Yamamoto’s sheepish smiles.

“Hey, Dera!” Yamamoto was practically beaming at him as he exited the shop, seemingly forgetting his tardiness.   
“Hey.” Gokudera stared at him for a moment, unable to stop the small smile that spread across his features. He had come to realize that it was almost impossible to stop his lips from curling upwards when the other gazed at him with such unconcealed joy. As their eyes met, Yamamoto’s expression softened, like it always seemed to do in his presence. Trying to ignore the affection directed towards him, Gokudera hurriedly walked past the other youth. “We’re going to be late.”  
“The others won’t mind.” He scoffed slightly at Yamamoto’s words, but he knew that they were true. Gokudera looked around them and deeming it safe, he reached out his hand, fingers skimming briefly against the inside of Yamamoto’s wrist.   
“You were late.” It was not a question and Gokudera told himself that it was not meant as one either. Still, his eyes shifted towards the other’s face, searching for an answer.   
“Haha, yeah. The others were pretty chatty after class.” Yamamoto sent him an apologetic smile.

They walked in silence for a while before Yamamoto turned to him again. “No bike today?”  
“No. I figured you’d start whining about going to my place later and there’s no way that piece of scrap metal will hold us both.” They had tried that before and Gokudera was not eager to experience it again. He could still hear the creaking of the metal frame as it threatened to give in beneath them. It did not help that it looked like the screws were going to come flying off at any moment.   
“Well, it’s probably going to get pretty late.” Yamamoto let out a soft chuckle and scratched the back of his neck. Gokudera gave an amused snort, knowing that he had been right. “So I don’t think I’ll be able to catch the last train and...”  
“Yeah, yeah.” He waved his hand towards the taller youth in a dismissing manner. “It’s not like you need an excuse anyway.”

As they rounded a corner and ended up on an abandoned street, Yamamoto wrapped his arm around Gokudera’s shoulders and pulled him close, pressing a kiss to his temple. A satisfied hum escaped his lips as he buried his nose in the silver strands. Gokudera snorted at his silly display of affection, but made no attempt to stop him. Instead he closed his eyes, enjoying the sensation of the other’s hot breath against his hair. Then Yamamoto pulled away slightly and leaned his head forward, eyes searching for his.  
   “You’ve been smoking again.” Gokudera turned his face away at the accusation. Although Yamamoto’s tone suggested that it was more of a statement, he could not help the surge of guild that settled in his stomach.  
   “I just had one this morning.” His eyes trailed along the houses lining the street, refusing to look at the other male. He was trying to quit, he really was, but some days he just could not help it.  
  “You still shouldn’t smoke, even if you’re stressed.” The arm nestled around Gokudera’s shoulders slowly retracted and fingers curled gently at the base of his neck, holding him in place. He felt the other male lean forward, as if he was trying to meet his eyes.  
  “Like hell I was!” the words came out as a sharp snap and he sent a heated glare in Yamamoto’s direction. _Am I that obvious?_  
“Haha, yes you are!” Yamamoto sounded all too pleased of his insight. He grumbled in annoyance of being so easily read. Apparently the idiot had developed some mind reading over the years. “I don’t think anyone else would notice though.”  
“Smug bastard.” Gokudera was pretty sure his own voice was not free from mirth either. “Now let me go before someone sees us.” Yamamoto only chuckled, once again letting his arm snake around the other’s frame, and despite his words Gokudera did not shake him off. Just like every other day they had walked down that very street.

Haru was the first one to notice. They had barely seated themselves at the table of their usual hangout restaurant before she had clasped Yamamoto’s hand and cast a quick look at Gokudera’s fingers.  
   “ _Oh my gosh_ , are you wearing matching rings?!” From the wide smile that spread across her features and the way she almost jumped up and down on the spot, it was evident that she could hardly detain her excitement. Gokudera almost snapped at her out of habit, but bit back his snarky reply.  
  “Yeah, so what?” he grabbed one of the drink menus and forced his attention to it, trying to ignore the nervous pounding of his heart.  
  “Really?” Tsuna was leaning over the table, trying to get a look himself. The question came out slightly awed and Gokudera could feel himself relaxing. The menu was tugged out of his hands by a smiling Yamamoto as the iron grip he had not realized he had upon it softened. Instead he found himself staring at the brunet who looked a little flustered. “Is it… I mean…” Tsuna visibly swallowed as he tried to find the right words. “…it’s not an engagement ring… right?” he finally managed to squeak out. Gokudera choked on his breath and for a moment he believed that his heart had stopped. A cold, numbing sensation settled in his gut as he gaped at his friend. He had expected the question, but somehow it still took him by complete surprise. _Was it?_ They had not particularly meant for it to be, but the implication was still there. Suddenly very aware of how he had been unconsciously leaning towards Yamamoto, like it was the most natural thing in the world, Gokudera’s heart came back in full throttle, each beat echoing loudly in his ears. He was not listening to them, was he? Gokudera did not dare to glance in his direction. Instead, he and Tsuna stared at each other, wide-eyed and Gokudera felt his cheeks flush in embarrassment. “IS IT?”Tsuna’s voice rose and octave and the Italian opened his mouth to reply, but no words of denial came out. Then, Kyoko came to his rescue with an amused giggle.  
  “No.” She leaned towards Tsuna, letting her fingers run along the back on one of his knuckles. “They’d be wearing them on this finger then. Like brother does.” Tsuna gawked at her, face pink from the sudden closeness. Looking somewhat dazed he nodded and glanced over at Ryohei, who was currently engaged in a conversation with Yamamoto. Gokudera started breathing again.  
   “Yeah.” he managed to croak out the affirmation, still too aware of his burning cheeks to fully look at them. Instead he focused on the ring, twirling it back and forth on his finger. “We just wanted to do something… it’s been five years after all…” Gokudera mumbled the last words, speaking more to himself than to the others.  
  “I think it’s a wonderful idea!” Tsuna sounded so happy that the Italian could not keep from meeting his eyes again. The two girls nodded in agreement and Tsuna gave him an embarrassed smile. “Sorry for making you uncomfortable.”

Gokudera was just about to respond when the waiter came to take their orders. Naming the first drink that popped into his head, he turned his focus back to the conversation, set on explaining the whole thing to his friend. However, the unexpected interruption seemed to have dissipated the awkward mood and soon Gokudera found himself joking about what had just transpired. He had convinced himself that he did not need to worry about the others’ reactions, but now he found himself relaxing further, unknown stress finally loosening its grasp upon him. Rough fingers brushed against his hand, before gently wrapping around it and he looked up to see a wide grin plastered across Yamamoto’s features. He had his glass raised as if calling out for a cheer. With a bashful smile, Gokudera nudged the other’s arm with his shoulder and raised his own drink.

Yamamoto had his arm slung around his shoulders as they walked down the street, happily chatting about something. Gokudera was not really listening to the words, simply enjoying the sound of his voice. Usually he would protest at this kind of closeness, but there were hardly anyone out and maybe he was a little drunk. He glanced at the baseball player, feeling a small smile creep onto his face. He definitely had too much to drink. Yamamoto seemed to notice, because he turned his head and then he was leaning closer.  
   “Hayato…” his name escaped the other’s lips as nothing more than a whisper, but the tone made Gokudera’s heart leap and before he knew it he was leaning in as well. Yamamoto’s hot breath caressed his face and Gokudera closed his eyes, lips half parted. That was when he realized that they were still in the middle of the street.  
   “Idiot!” he quickly looked away, one hand pushing Yamamoto’s face from him. “Can’t you keep your hands to yourself until we get ho-“  
   “Yamamoto!” Gokudera went rigid, a cold sensation spreading though his body as Yamamoto spun around towards the voice. Still standing slightly behind the other male, Gokudera’s gaze traveled in the direction of the invading sound and much to his distress he could see a couple of the baseball team’s players approaching. One of them had his arm raised and was waving at them, or rather at Yamamoto, with a grin plastered on his face. The thought of escaping crossed his mind, but Gokudera knew it was already too late.

Gokudera had never paid much attention to the rest of the baseball team, but he recognized the ones approaching as the small group that Yamamoto usually had lunch with.   
“I thought you were going to meet up with your friends?”  
  “Haha, I was but…” he trailed off, attention shifting as one of them stepped forward and leaned to the side, peering behind Yamamoto.   
   “Who do we have here?”  He glanced curiously at Gokudera, who was still half hidden in the shadows behind Yamamoto. “Eeeh? Gokudera Hayato?!” The others’ attention was on him in an instant, surprise written across their features.   
  “Haha, yes. Gokudera had a little too much to drink, so I’m helping him home!” Yamamoto sounded very pleased with himself, as if he was not just as drunk and had no intention of leaving once they got to the apartment.  
  “Like hell I had!” he wrenched free from Yamamoto’s supporting arm and showed the others how true this was by stomping away, straight as a sinus curve.  
   “Ah! Dera, wait!” Yamamoto stumbled after him, one arm stretched out in an attempt to catch him. Gokudera did not get further than a few steps before he realized that the world was spinning too much to his liking.  
   “Oi, idiot, get over here.” The Italian grumbled at his defeat, hearing the amused chuckles coming from Yamamoto’s comrades. He had his pride, but having to lean on Yamamoto was better than staggering home like an old man. Yamamoto did not need to be told twice and happily wrapped his arm around him again. The other baseball players had no problem keeping up with them as Gokudera tried steering their steps in the right direction.

   “I can’t believe you two know each other!” one of the baseball players exclaimed and the others voiced their agreement.  
   “We’ve been best friends since middle school!” Yamamoto responded as he momentarily let go of Gokudera and petted his silver hair. Grumbling over the mistreatment of his head, Gokudera tried to shrug off the hand since Yamamoto was putting a little too much force into the action. He just wished they would stop yapping and let him go home already. Though, he was grateful that the other had settled for ‘best friends’ instead of something that would do more damage. Maybe Yamamoto had not been drinking as much as he thought he had. Gokudera’s eyes widened in sudden realization.  
   “It was you!” he hissed out, one finger pointing accusingly at the taller male. Yamamoto trailed off whatever he had been saying to his friends and looked down at him in confusion. “You sneaky bastard! Don’t think I didn’t notice!” Seeing that there was still no sign of recognition in the other’s eyes he decided to share his revelation. “You tried to thwart my conversation with the Tenth by refilling my beer!” No matter how much he had been drinking, his glass had never seemed to get empty. Obviously Yamamoto had been envious of the glorious discourse they had been having. It all made sense now.   
   “No, you kept on snagging mine.” Yamamoto chuckled and repositioned his arm, drawing him closer. Gokudera narrowed his eyes, not at all convinced by the others’ mediocre acting. He was onto him now. It seemed as if Yamamoto tried to divert his thoughts from his brilliant discovery as he turned to the other baseball players. “Uh, I think it’s time I took him home now. See you guys tomorrow!” He waved merrily at them and proceeded to drag Gokudera along with him. The Italian sent the others a suspicious glare. Maybe they were in on it.   
   “Don’t think I’m letting this go. I’m watching you.” Yamamoto did not seem to be affected by his threat and only laughed. Slightly miffed by the other’s nonchalant behavior, Gokudera was about to spout another threat, only to be silenced by a kiss.  
   “Come on Dera, let’s just go home.” Deciding that it could wait, he let himself be pulled along. Tomorrow. Tomorrow he would unravel the devious plan.


	3. Day Two - part 1

_What on earth_ had he been doing last night? Gokudera buried his face deeper into the pillow, praying that the last part of the evening had been his imagination. Making a complete fool of himself in front of Yamamoto’s friends was not especially high on his list of desirable achievements throughout life. Deep in his foggy mind he also had a very vague recollection of running around an awful lot on the way home, with Yamamoto hot on his heels. Had they been playing tag or something? The thought had him cringing and he desperately hoped it had not been the case.

He let out a soft groan, which only succeeded in making him aware of the dull throbbing of his head. How it had eluded him before was a mystery, because now his body was practically screaming at him with sore muscles and the headache had stopped being polite and was now pounding against the inside of his skull. The fact that his throat felt as if he had ventured across a desert without any water was not helping. Gokudera tried to wriggle himself further down beneath his comforter, hoping that it would somehow bring him out of his misery. His attempts were futile, however, as the comforter seemed unwilling to move anywhere but off of his body. The soft fabric slid down over his shoulder blades, causing him to shiver as his skin made contact with cold air. His entire body was telling him not to move, to let the comforter lie where it was, while his hammering head insisted that he pulled it back up. The headache was far more convincing than his sore body. Mustering up enough strength to will his arm to bring the cover back up and over his head, Gokudera sighed in relief as he was safely cocooned in its warmth.

The mattress was soft beneath him, soothing his aching limbs and Gokudera found himself relaxing, despite the headache and the burning throat. The world was warm and gentle around him, blurring into a comfortable haze. He was vaguely aware that something was missing. There should be more heat he realized, the sticky kind that forms from skin against skin and is so hard to pull away from. Once again he moved his arm, reaching out from underneath the safety of his comforter and flailing around in a haphazard attempt to locate the body that should be lying next to him. His hand found nothing, however, awkwardly patting the crumpled sheets.  
“Takeshi?” his voice was rough, rasping against the inside of his throat. Gokudera did not move from his shelter, but a sense of dread filled him as no reply came.

With the unsettling feeling lingering in his chest, he slowly pulled the fabric off his head, opening his eyes ever so slightly too peek out into the room. The curtains were drawn, but he still winced from the faint light flittering through them. Gokudera scanned the room with half lidded eyes, searching for any trace of the baseball player. What if he had done something stupid last night, causing the other to go home on his own? It would not have been the first time and, knowing himself, certainly not the last one either.

Clothes were scattered across the floor, but the dim light made it difficult to distinguish whether there were any that did not belong to him in the mess. Gokudera squinted at the disarray of clothing as his eyes gradually adapted to the darkness of the room. It did not look much different from the chaos he had left the previous morning, he noted with a scowl. Whatever had elapsed between running around in the streets and reaching the apartment had apparently been bad enough for Yamamoto to leave him in this miserable state. He swore under his breath and was just about to retreat into his cocoon when he noticed some clothes hanging off of his desk. Relief washed over him as he spotted a pair of jeans that were definitely not his own, probably thrown there along with what Gokudera recognized as the shirt he had worn the day before. As he heard the bathroom door close and the familiar sound of footsteps against the floorboards, he let himself sink back into the mattress.

The bed dipped slightly from Yamamoto’s weight as he settled beside him. He felt fingers gently threading through the hair at the base of his neck and soft velvety skin pressing against his shoulder.   
“Morning.” Yamamoto murmured against his skin before trailing kisses up his neck. Gokudera grumbled into the pillow in response. “I was just about to make breakfast. Do you want anything?” The sudden sound tore into his head, despite the softness of Yamamoto’s voice. He offered no response, instead clutching the pillow tighter and burrowing deeper into the sheets. Sounding so happy and blissfully unaware of the horrors of hangovers in the morning should be illegal. Could Yamamoto not see how he was suffering?

Apparently he could, because the most beautiful words in the universe left his lips in the next instant.   
“I can make some coffee if you like?” Gokudera gave him an affirmative grunt, to which he was awarded with a light chuckle. Yamamoto’s hand shifted, burying deep in his silver strands and his fingers started moving in circular motions against the curve of his head. As Yamamoto’s fingers worked their magic upon his scalp, tension being drawn away by the gentle and steady force, Gokudera let out a content moan. He did not know how such a simple motion could do this to him, but it felt _amazing_. The raspy, breathy noises resounding deep in his throat seemed to encourage Yamamoto, because another hand joined in on thoroughly massaging his scalp. Gokudera found himself craning his head up so that the other could get better access. “Does it feel good?” Yamamoto sounded somewhat surprised, but at the same time amused.  
“What do you thin- ohh…” a strangled and extremely embarrassing sound left his lips. The hands in his hair stopped momentarily, as if Yamamoto was stunned and had not elicited similar humiliating moans from the Italian before. Gokudera reached up and grabbed his wrists, pulling them away from him. “Just get me that coffee.” He lifted his head and faced Yamamoto, eyes still scrunched together and already feeling the effects of the massage wearing off. “Please.”

With both hands encircling his mug and nose hovering just above it, Gokudera closed his eyes and sighed in delight. He took a deep breath, inhaling the aroma of the dark treasure in his hands and leaned back against the pillow propped between him and the headboard. Yamamoto settled next to him, bare legs skimming against his under the covers.  
“I think we need to restock your kitchen again, but I found some toast if you want.” He felt a movement and assumed that Yamamoto was holding up the plate he had brought. He did not answer. Instead his grip tightened around the mug, trying to still the slight trembling of his fingers. “Hayato?”  
“I thought I made you leave again.” The words left his lips as a hoarse whisper and he felt the knot in his stomach tighten. Each word quivered ever so slightly, betraying the conflicted storm swirling beneath the surface.  Never before had he heard _fear_ so evident in his own voice. Turning his attention back to his coffee, Gokudera took another sip, hoping that Yamamoto would pick up the conversation so that he would not have to continue. If he had to, he was not sure what would accidentally slip out. Thankfully he did, like he always did because Gokudera was too awkward with things like emotions.

At first he had thought that the Japanese youth simply liked hearing his own voice or perhaps that he was one of those people that could not handle ticklish silences and blabbered on as soon as one arose. Then one day when Tsuna had unknowingly shifted their conversation towards something that was too personal, too uncomfortable for him to handle, he had realized that Yamamoto talked so that Gokudera would not have to. He consciously twisted his words to become dumber, laughing and effortlessly steering away from any touchy topics. That was when he realized just how well Yamamoto had come to know him, how he saw the parts that Gokudera was desperately trying to conceal from everyone, the parts he was refusing to let even Tsuna see. The insight had left him scared out of his mind.

“Hayato.” Yamamoto’s voice was firm, but soft around the edges, just like the steady hand that cupped his cheek and gently turned his head. Gokudera hesitantly opened his eyes, taking in the man before him. Yamamoto was watching him with _those_ eyes. The kind of eyes that he wore as soon as his fingers touched the handle of his bat or the hilt of his sword. The kind of eyes that broke past the happy façade and meant that he would stop playing foolish, that he was being serious. Those somber brown eyes bore into his and Gokudera felt his mouth run dry. He had not voiced his concern before, but he was sure the tremble of his voice had given it away. Now he was suddenly afraid to search for the answer lying deep in those eyes. His gaze flickered back to his half filled mug, not daring to hold Yamamoto’s. The other seemed to have noticed his uncertainty, because the hand threaded into his hair and he felt Yamamoto lean towards him.

Their foreheads met and Gokudera’s hands shook so violently that he almost dropped his coffee. “I’m not going to leave you.” Surprised, because the sudden leap in his chest was only that, he told himself, Gokudera looked up at Yamamoto again. The other youth’s features had morphed into something more akin to affection and with a touch of something eerily similar to sorrow. “I’m not going to leave you.” Each syllable was uttered slowly and carefully, as if to make sure he heard them properly. Yamamoto repeated the words as if saying them again would be enough to reassure years of unspoken worry. Somehow it was, because the knot in Gokudera’s chest started to loosen. “ Sometimes I just need to cool my head before either of us start saying things we’ll regret in the morning.” He fell silent, tenderly running his fingers through Gokudera’s hair. His eyes never wavered and when he spoke again, it was with a smile gently tugging at his mouth. “I love you Hayato. That’s why I’m still here.”  
“I love you too.” He managed to choke out in response, before furiously blinking back the wetness burning behind his eyelids.

For a while they just sat there, foreheads touching and staring into each other’s eyes. Yamamoto kept on smiling softly and brushing through the silver strands with his fingers, patiently waiting for Gokudera to calm down. He was not sure who moved first, if Yamamoto had tugged on his hair or if he had started leaning forward. Not that it really mattered. He let his eyes fall shut as their lips met. At first it was nothing more than a brush of skin against skin, lips slowly grazing against each other without fully touching. There was hot breath ghosting against his mouth and he felt his own getting quicker, more erratic as they continued their delicate dance. He felt Yamamoto’s lips parting and edged forward, imitating the motion. Then the cup was being eased from his hands and he felt Yamamoto shifting his weight without pulling away. There was a soft clank of ceramic against wood and then Yamamoto leaned forward, fingers burying deep in Gokudera’s hair and heated lips pressing against his. Rough fingers ran along his collar bone, against the curve of his shoulder and down against his shoulder blade as the other arm moved forward, encaging him.

Gokudera’s fingernails raked against Yamamoto’s back as and he groaned into the kiss as the other tugged his head back by his hair. His back pressed against the headrest as Yamamoto leaned over him and he shuddered as he felt the other’s tongue slipping past his lips. He pulled Yamamoto closer, palms pressed tightly against his muscular back and pushing forward with his own tongue, slowly sliding it along Yamamoto’s lower lip. The other let out a low, guttural sound before capturing Gokudera’s tongue in his mouth, entangling it with his own. Yamamoto tasted sweet against his mouth, _strawberry jam_ he realized, and he stroke his tongue hungrily against the other’s. One of his hands slid down along Yamamoto’s back, fingers skimming against the tan skin. He ran them down the side of his ribcage, over the slight curve of his hip bone and along the smooth skin just above the hem of his boxers. He felt the Japanese tremble at his touch and tasted the moan deep in his troat.  
“We… we should stop.” The words were breathed against his lips between kisses, Yamamoto’s voice low and laden with lust.   
“Yeah…” He whispered and recaptured the other’s lips, one hand moving up to nestle in dark locks. They shared one final, lingering kiss before pulling away from each other.

By then Gokudera’s coffee had gone cold, but he gingerly gulped it down. He eyed the toasts that had miraculously managed to stay on the plate with skepticism. They were probably cold too by now, but his stomach seemed to have awakened and was now expressing a desire to be fed. He grabbed one of the slices and nibbled on it. Deciding that he might as well ask the question that had been nagging his mind since waking up, he peered at Yamamoto.  
“Did you make me play some silly game with you on the way home last night?” the other youth narrowed his eyes in contemplation, before shaking his head. “Then why was I running around like a fool and why is my body freaking sore?” he questioned and took a large bite of his toast. That seemed to ring a bell, because a highly amused expression flashed across Yamamoto’s face before changing into a more tentative one.  
“Ahaha… You were convinced we were being tailed by an assassin and tried to shake them off, I guess?” the bread almost caught in his windpipe as he inhaled sharply and Yamamoto quickly handed him his glass of milk. He downed the liquid in one gulp, grimacing at the sourness it had attained from standing on the nightstand.

After his wheezing and coughing calmed down he turned to face the other, but Yamamoto was looking everywhere but him, probably not sure how he was going to react to this piece of information. Gokudera opted for giving him a wide-eyed, incredulous stare. “You wouldn’t listen to me and did some really crazy maneuvers while trying to shake them off.” he added and the Italian almost smacked himself. _That_ would explain the soreness. He brought his hands up to his face and sighed heavily against his palms in exasperation. As much as he did not want to believe what he had just been told, in fact he just wanted crawl back under the covers and pretend he had not heard anything, he knew that Yamamoto was not one to make such things up.  
“Please, tell me that we at least had amazing sex when we got back.” He whispered against his hands, not daring to look at Yamamoto.  
“Well… you sure tried before you collapsed.” Gokudera groaned and let his head fall against Yamamoto’s shoulder. Had he not managed to do anything properly last night?


	4. Day Two - part 2

Gokudera’s morning did not become any better after realizing that they would be late for, or even miss, the first period. Having to forcibly kick his apartment door to get it to close enough for him to be able to even turn the key properly and then almost breaking the lock in the process did not help. Yamamoto waited patiently for him to stop slamming his foot against the door before he gently peeled his fingers from the key and guided him away from the lock. With a practiced push of his shoulder and a quick flick of his wrist, Yamamoto locked the door and handed the key to Gokudera.

Not impressed by the ease of which Yamamoto handled his misbehaving door, Gokudera scoffed and headed down the stairs. _Bloody door_. He probably should have gotten the lock switched back when it started acting up months ago and he would probably end up locking himself out of his apartment any day now.  
“We’re walking.” He informed Yamamoto and stuck his hands deep into his pockets, fiddling with his lighter. “We’re going to miss first period anyway.” He offered, uneager to take the train unless necessary.

Taking the train was not exactly expensive, but Gokudera would much rather spend whatever he could save on more important things, like cigarettes and explosives. And food, like Yamamoto would so often remind him. Not that he did not eat, but Gokudera would be lying if he claimed to be eating anything more nutritious than cup noodles on the days that Yamamoto did not stay over. Not to mention that being able to go out with Tsuna and the others a few times each month, on its own, was worth the half hour walk in each direction.

At least they were going to make it to second period he told himself as he ran both hands through his hair, trying to calm himself. Missing one or two lectures was not that big of a deal and he was pretty sure the withering old man, whose monotone speech Gokudera was not exactly regretting passing up, was not taking attendance anyway. Yamamoto did not seem particularly bothered either. In fact, Gokudera noted as he glanced at the other youth, he had the audacity to actually seem pleased about the situation.  
“What?” he barked out, immediately regretting his tone with the way Yamamoto watched him. It was that look he would have when he thought Gokudera was being too grouchy, which had admittedly been happening less and less over the years, but made him disturbingly self-reflexive. “Stop that.” He hastened his steps, but Yamamoto was already leaning in, wrapping one arm around him.  
“I’m not doing anything Dera.” Gokudera let himself be pulled into his grasp, too exhausted to even bother pretending.

Yamamoto was wrong he concluded. Even if he was not aware of it himself, though he probably was that sneaky bastard, just one of those looks could have Gokudera contemplating every life choice he had ever made.  
“Yes you are.” Gokudera croaked out. _You’re making me see things about myself that I’d rather not see._ For a moment he was silent, eyes following the white trails of a plane painted across the sky. At times he would wish that Yamamoto was not so perceptive, that he was more like the stubborn epithet that Gokudera had so naively given him. After a while he cleared his throat and continued. “Don’t worry so much, idiot.”  
“I’m not.” Yamamoto rested his cheek against the top of his hair and Gokudera gave him a feeble shove before leaning back towards him. “I just don’t like seeing you like that.” Although Gokudera already knew that, it was not like he could do much about it. He let out a weary sigh.  
“Like I said, don’t worry so much. I’m fine.” He briefly wondered which one of them he was trying to fool.

As they reached the street corner where they would usually part, Yamamoto’s arm slipped off his shoulders and Gokudera took a few steps before he processed the movement. Shoes scraping against the asphalt, he stopped and turned around in confusion. Yamamoto was staring down the road with a thoughtful expression, one hand tugging at the shoulder strap of his bag.  
“I promised Pops I’d help out with the shop today.” He glanced at Gokudera and stepped closer. “I can still come see you later tonight?” Yamamoto asked, peering down at him with a hopeful look.  
“I have work. If my head hasn’t killed me before then.” Gokudera grumbled, as his headache had showed no signs of subsiding, despite the painkillers he had chugged down with another cup of coffee before heading out.  
“Oh, I forgot.” Yamamoto seemingly deflated at his words, his shoulders sagging and his fingers tightening around his shoulder strap.   
“You could always come over tomorrow.” Gokudera offered with a shrug, trying to ignore the way his heart sped as the other practically lit up at his statement. “Idiot.” He muttered. “You look ridiculous.” With a quick glance around, he stepped forward and pressed their lips together. Before Yamamoto had any chance to react, he was heading briskly up the hill and threw his hand in the air as the other youth called his goodbyes.

When Gokudera stepped into his classroom he realized that he had severely misjudged Yamamoto’s popularity. He had expected that there would be gossiping, sure, but having the entirety of the course mates gather in the center of the lecture hall to share their opinion was not in his calculations. Apparently Yamamoto opened his mouth and blabbered to anyone in his vicinity, because there was no one that did not seem to know him or had not at least talked to him.

For a moment he just stood in the door, too stunned to even move aside as other students brushed past him and went to join the crowd. How on earth was it possible? Despite knowing just how sociable Yamamoto was and how popular the baseball team was, Gokudera could not even begin to figure out how these people, these people who he had believed to be completely disinterested in trivial matters such as sports and others’ personal lives, were so eager to know about _this_.

Deciding that standing there looking completely flabbergasted was only going to draw more attention to himself, Gokudera quietly retreated towards the back of the classroom. Without looking, he pulled out a notebook from his bag and pretended to skim through his notes.

Just like he had dreaded, it appeared that the others were indeed discussing the mystery of Yamamoto. The words blurred in front of him as Gokudera tried to distinguish what they were saying. How much did they know? Maybe Yamamoto’s team mates had mentioned their encounter last night and what if people realized that they actually knew each other and someone started connecting the pieces and _oh god_ … The world spun around him and Gokudera was not sure, but he thought he might have picked up his name and he was starting to breathe erratically.

He received some odd looks as the other students took their seats, probably wondering whether he needed some kind of exorcising with the way he was trembling and desperately breathing through his nose. Gokudera tried to ignore them and stared intensely at the professor, willing himself to listen, but all he could hear where the hushed whispers coming from around him, Yamamoto’s name dancing on everyone’s lips.


	5. Day Two - part 3

Somehow Gokudera survived the lecture. Despite his attempts at focusing, he had not heard a single word of what the professor had said, attention whizzing back and forth at the slightest noise from the other students. He remained in his seat as the others left the room, eyes fixed on his blank papers and heart in his throat. The moment the door closed he scooped up his things and showed them into his bag. With wobbly legs he dashed out of the room, down the stairs and out into the blazing heat and away from the accursed room.

He needed to get away.

Gokudera did not flee from campus. Instead he spent the lunch holed up in the library, crouched down behind some shelves and nose buried in the latest number of _Paranormal Japan_. His rings clinked against each other as he restlessly flicked the pages, trying to find a story that would hold his attention. There was a shuffling noise on the other side and he heard a couple of giggles. They seemed to be sitting down by one of the reading tables in the aisle. There were a few more giggles and mumbling, but Gokudera was not paying them any mind until he heard a familiar name.  
“-amamoto.” The magazine dropped from his hands as he pressed his back against the shelf behind him, craning his neck to hear what they were saying.  
“What? No, I heard it’s someone from K University.” One of the girls rebutted and he could practically see the others leaning across the table to hear. “One of my friends goes there and she said that she’s seen this girl with him…”

He ended up listening in on them the entire hour, neck cramping from his awkward position behind the shelf. It was not until the bell rang that he realized that he had another class. Ignoring the gnawing feeling in his stomach, Gokudera snuck past them and headed towards the lecture. He figured that he would just go and buy a yakisoba bread or something later.

Later, as Gokudera made his way through the bicycle parking, stuffing the remains of a melon bread into his mouth, he could not help but to glance wistfully at the motorcycles parked there. _One day,_ he told himself and reluctantly turned his attention towards the lot where his bike should be parked. It was, however, occupied by what was definitely not his bike. In fact, his deathtrap was nowhere to be seen. For a brief moment the thought of someone stealing it crossed his mind, but he quickly dismissed it. Gokudera doubted anyone would judge it safe enough to steal and if someone did, well it was their problem then. It still did not solve the mystery of his disappearing bike.

Walking back and forth along the bike parking, he scanned the area for any trace of the bike. Gokudera always parked it in the same place, except for that one time he was walking with Yamamoto and ended up being far too engrossed in whatever argument they were having and… _oh_. Walking with Yamamoto. He ended up actually face palming himself, while cursing his stupidity. Of course he had been too distracted by his headache and the idiot’s happy chattering to remember to bring his bike. This meant should start running about… he fished out his phone to check the time. Ten minutes ago. _Well, shit._ He was going to be late for work.

Gokudera was not exactly a skilled runner, he would probably be faster if he would just stop with those cigarettes, but he still prided himself in his speed as he skidded to a stop in front of his workplace twenty minutes later. Sure, he was gasping for breath and his hands were shaking, but he could not possibly be later than that one time his bike decided, halfway down the mountain, that it did not need its chain anymore.

 “Oh, look at that! Mr.Grumpy is here.” The _oh so lovely_ woman that ran the convenience store looked up from her paper, giving him a sharp glare as he tumbled through the door to the staff room. Still panting heavily from his involuntary sprint, he mustered the fiercest glare he could as he tried not to cough his lungs out. “Your shift started five minutes ago. I expect you to join Fujioka behind the counter in the next five or you won’t have to show up again.” Gokudera knew from their many previous disputes that she was not to be trifled with when she was in a mood like this, so he swallowed the snarky reply and shuffled over to the bathroom. After splashing himself with some cooling water, he ran his trembling hands through his hair and pulled it into a ponytail. Then he dug through his bag and hastily changed into his uniform.

Working at the convenience store was not the most exhilarating way to pass his time and this day was no different. Gokudera was just helping this tiny little lady that could not decide which type of nikuman she would prefer when the doorbell rang again. Looking up, he had to bite his lip to keep himself from swearing in front of the elderly being.

It was one of the regular customers; a girl that he recognized from school, who did not seem to realize that Gokudera cursing and practically throwing her groceries at her was _not_ him flirting back. She would come by on all of his shifts, only buying one or two items so that she could drop by again later and pestering him to no end. No matter how harshly he had formulated his disinterest, she was relentless up to the point that he had announced to the entire shop at the top of his lungs that he “ _was fucking_ gay _, so get the hell away from me you crazy bitch_ ”, upon which he had shoved her out of the store.

His boss had not been particularly impressed by that incidence and Gokudera was not keen on making it a common occurrence. He could not afford losing this job, his charming personality and people skills were not good selling points after all, so he would need something to restrain him from before she made him lose his mind. Therefore, he was pleasantly surprised to see her attached to the arm of an unfortunate male, who had probably angered the spirits in order to be stuck in such a manner.

“Gokudera! Good to see you made it home in one piece last night!” _Shit_. Gokudera went rigid, slowly turning his head to stare wide-eyed at the most-likely-cursed guy, taking in his appearance. He was one of Yamamoto’s teammates.  
“You know each other?” The girl stared at the two of them as if was the most extraordinary thing she had ever encountered.  
“He’s one of Yamamoto’s friends.” The young man, whose name Gokudera was pretty sure was Takeuchi, said to her as if it explained everything. Apparently it did, because she nodded her head, looking pleased with the answer.  
“That id-” He started, undoubtedly about to deliver a witty answer, when Fujioka interrupted him, seemingly having decided that it was the perfect moment to pop out from wherever she had been hiding before. She had probably been slacking off he noted sourly.  
“Yamamoto?” She began with a smirk that did not bode well. Gokudera felt a sudden sense of dread fill him. “Is that the cute guy that waits for you when the Saturday shift ends?” he opened his mouth to tell her no, to deny it in front of Takeuchi and the annoying girl, but no words came out. Instead he just kind of gaped at her, a strangled sound dying in his throat.  
“Yamamoto does that?” Takeuchi sounded stunned, but Gokudera was too busy continuing mimicking a dying fish to look at him to see whether his expression matched. “Oh… uh… wow, you guys must be closer than I thought. I’d expect him to spend that time with his girlfriend.”  
“How should I know?” Gokudera managed to force out. Refusing to look at them, he punched the buttons on the screen in front of him and snatched out a bag from under the disk. “That idiot comes here on his own accord.” He practically threw their things into the bag and put it down with a loud thud. “That’ll be 451 yen.”  
“Oh- Yeah…” Gokudera lifted his gaze as Takeuchi dug through his pocket for the right amount. The girl was staring at him with wide eyes and he could practically see the gears turning for her. If his tongue had not felt like it was sticking in his throat he would have laughed at how painful it looked. “Here.” He glanced at the outstretched hand, looking at it stupidly before realizing he was getting paid.

As if the universe had not taunted him enough, Gokudera ended up dropping the change all over the disk, after which the couple finally left with a hasty goodbye. He sagged against the cashier machine, burying his face in his hands. Fujioka guffawed at him and he glared at her as she went over to the hot food area.  
“So this Yamamoto…”she started, looking back at him and wriggling her eyebrows.  
“Shut it.”


	6. Day Three

Once again the classroom was bustling with life as he entered. Echoes of “It must be true!” and “The ring looks just like Yamamoto’s” had his insides twisting in cold terror and he briefly considered turning and fleeing. Deciding that since he had already suffered through crawling out of bed and getting to school, he might as well get the whole thing over with.

Besides, fleeing was totally unbecoming of Tsuna’s right hand man. Steeling his mind towards him impending doom, Gokudera dragged himself to a table and slumped down.

To his confusion, no one seemed to pay him any mind. Hoping that this only meant that he had been stealthy enough to go unnoticed, Gokudera rummaged through his bag for his notebook and pencil. After placing them on the table he started listening to the conversations around him. Despite Yamamoto being mentioned from right to left, they were suspiciously lacking his own name.

What if they were not talking about him?

But then… who was supposedly wearing the same ring as Yamamoto?

He got the answer sooner than he had wished for, when one of the girls squealed something about a _Tanaka-san_.

“She told me they got them together!” Seething anger building up inside him, Gokudera had to bite down harshly on his lip to keep himself from yelling at them. _How fucking dare she?!_ The girls were giggling away, unaware of the rage they were about to unleash upon themselves.  
“She’s so cute! They make the perfect couple!”Trying to keep calm, Gokudera inhaled furiously through his nose, hands balling into shaking fists. He was not going to have an outburst in the class room. He was not going to-  
“I know!” Gokudera was pretty sure his lip was bleeding by now. One more comment and he was going to- “I’m so jealous!” One hand unclenched, fingers digging sharply into his thigh. That was it. He was about to rise when another giggle rang through the air. Then there was a loud snap and a sharp pain coming from his hand. Bewildered, he glanced down, only to see the remains of his mechanical pencil torn apart beneath his whitening knuckles.

He was going to find this bitch and tear her lying little face apart.

As soon as the lecture was over he stormed out. In a flurry Gokudera pushed past the, most likely, innocent bystanders, ignoring their startled protests, and marched over to the student office. Once there he raised his hand to knock, only to falter when he realized that he had no idea what to tell them.

Determination washed off his face and Gokudera was left standing outside with his hand raised.

What had he been thinking? That he would barge in there and demand to know who was claiming to be Yamamoto’s girlfriend?

A defeated chuckle left his lips.

Digging his traitorous hand into his pocket he felt a hard edge against his fingers. Hesitantly his fingers curled around it, skimming over the surface. He knew he should not. _I need air._ He headed out the opposite way he had come from, clutching the packet firmly.

Gokudera watched the trails of smoke dissipate into the air. It was strange how calm it made him. He could feel his high-strung nerves unwinding themselves and his mind becoming clearer. He sighed and rubbed his temple. The whole ordeal was wearing him down more than he would have liked to admit. Closing his eyes he took another drag and contemplated his options.

Getting worked up over every little thing was not helping him analyze the situation and deal with it with minimal damage. Albeit not liking to admit it, Gokudera knew that he, at times, got a little too hotheaded and tended to act irrationally.

Having realized that raging through the school in search for the perpetrator was rather counterproductive, Gokudera chose the next best option.

Texting.

[Who the fck] he swore loudly and slammed his thumbs against the screen in frustration. [fcuk] The damn uncooperative device was not improving his day. [fuck is she?!]  
[Who?] came the almost immediate reply. __  
[The lying bitch!!]  
[Oh! You mean Tanaka-san?] Gokudera did not really care about what’s-her-face. Instead, Yamamoto’s calm awareness of the situation only served to irk him further. Before he had the chance to call and tell him that in person, however, his phone vibrated again. [I’ll talk to her! Don’t worry about it!] _You better!_ Gokudera grit his teeth and growled at his phone. Then he saw the second part of the message. __  
[Who said I was worried?!]  
[(^w^)] Defiantly he shoved his phone into his pocket without answering it. Of course Yamamoto was not taking it seriously.

However, as the classes passed, he noticed that the gossiping diminished and there were no more mentions of the moronic girl. In fact, the interest in the topic seemed to have dwindled to a minimum. It left Gokudera wondering what exactly Yamamoto had said. Not that he cared really. He was just less annoyed now that he could finally relax. Or almost at least.

There was still one problem left. _Takeuchi_.

This particular matter Gokudera was more eager to deal with. He had always prided himself over his particular skill of exploiting and subduing those that had wronged him.

Apparently the lingering sour mood was quite visible on his face, because Takeuchi flinched back when he corned him on the way to baseball practice.

“Uh, can I help you?” Takeuchi scratched the back of his neck, eyes flickering to the side. “I haven’t seen Yamamoto yet if you’re looking for him, but I bet he’s at the field already.”  
“No.” He growled, before taking a deep breath and starting over. “No, I want to talk.”  
“Okay.” Takeuchi sounded somewhat hesitant, but nodded in agreement.  
“Don’t…” Gokudera cast a quick glance around them. “Don’t tell anyone what happened at the shop last night.”He must have glared, because the other male threw up his hands in defence.  
“I won’t tell anyone else that you guys are friends!” He adverted his eyes. “I might have mentioned it, but I won’t say anything about it again!” Gokudera watched him carefully, unsure if he was being serious. Did he believe that _that_ was what this was about? That he would chase him for just that after what had happened the day before? It was almost as if he had not understood… “I don’t know why you want to keep quiet about it, especially not when Yamamoto seems to care for you so much.” The baseball player shot him a frustrated glare. “Hell, he almost treats you like his girlfr-“ Gokudera was sure he could tell the exact moment when the realization dawned upon Takeuchi. For a moment they just stared at each other, and then the other male stuttered, eyes widening almost comically as he let out a high pitched ‘ _Oh_ ’. Gokudera was torn between kicking himself for inadvertently causing the very thing he had been trying to avoid and laughing himself silly over the fact that Takeuchi had not been able to come to the conclusion himself.

After a moment of looking anywhere but each other, Takeuchi seemed to have found his speech again.  
“Uh. I wasn’t quite expecting that. Not that I mind!” He gave Gokudera a quick glance as if wanting to gauge his reaction and offered a meek smile. “I won’t tell anyone I swear.”  
“Yeah, whatever.” Gokudera pinched his nose, feeling a headache coming. “Just go play your game.” Takeuchi gave him a short wave and took off towards the field, jogging to catch up with the others. Once he was out of sight Gokudera buried his face in his hands and groaned loudly.

Why did he end up doing these things to himself?

Walking away, he was hit by a sudden epiphany. _She had not told him._

Despite how harshly he had treated the annoying girl, she had not said a word.


	7. Day Four - part 1

When Gokudera headed to school the next day he was not expecting to see Takeuchi waiting by the gates. Yamamoto must have told him that he usually spent first period in the library. He decided to ignore the baseball player and veered his bike to the side. Takeuchi was not having any of it, however, and stepped in front of him, expression unmoving and eyes fixed on his.  
“I was hoping we could talk.”  
“Fine.” Gokudera grumbled as he leapt off his bike and gave the other youth a weary look. He was not in the mood for whatever crap he was going to have forced onto him.  
“I talked with Yamamoto about it yesterday.” Takeuchi said as they started walking towards a more secluded area. Gokudera sighed, having figured as much already. It was not hard to imagine Yamamoto’s beaming smile and eagerness to talk, to share it with someone. Nor was imagining the sag of his shoulders and the way the mirth slipped from his eyes as the curve of his lips no longer stretched all the way.

Glaring at the other, Gokudera steeled himself for what he would see and almost ended up tripping on his bike. Takeuchi was acting completely at ease. The young man was facing forward, back straight and gaze firm. Gokudera on the other hand was curling into himself, hunching over his poor excuse of a vehicle. Any moment now and that calm countenance would twist into disgust. He clenched his fists around the bike handle, fingers whitening from the force. If he as much dared to suggest that they-   
“I wasn’t expecting him to be so happy about it. Like how do you even get happier than he usually is?” Takeuchi laughed out the question, causing Gokudera to let out an unintelligent squawk in surprise. This conversation was definitely not going in the direction he had anticipated. “Anyway, I figured that if he’s so happy about it, would it really be that bad if people knew?”  
“Of course!” the Italian snapped at him, shoulders squaring protectively around him. Takeuchi frowned, voice rising with an irritated edge as he spoke again.  
“Do you care that much about your stupid reputation?” he spat out.  
“ _My_ reputation?!” Gokudera snarled and pushed away his bike, stomping over to the other male. Once he got close enough he grabbed the front of Takeuchi’s shirt and pulled him down so that he could glare at him properly. “It’s not _my_ reputation I’m fucking worried about!”  
“Uh.” Takeuchi blinked at him in surprise, whatever argument he was about to deliver dying in his throat. Then, upon realizing that he was still holding onto the other’s shirt, Gokudera quickly let go and took a few stumbling steps backwards.

After a few moments of awkward silence and neither youth daring to look at each other, Takeuchi spoke again.  
“You know…” His voice was soft, almost mellow. “Yamamoto doesn’t care. His reputation is the last thing he’d care about.”  
“I know.” Gokudera mumbled, eyes fixed on his shoelaces as he shuffled his feet. Of course he knew. Anyone who was the slightest familiar with Yamamoto would know that it was the last thing he would think about. And he should not have to. It would not be fair if Yamamoto of all people had to even consider it for a second.  
“And even if people mind, it’s not like he still wouldn’t be popular with that overly friendly personality of his.” They both chuckled at this, eyes meeting and Takeuchi offered a small smile.  
“It’s not what the school thinks…” Gokudera began, pale fingers pinching the bridge of his nose as he tipped his head back, sighing deeply. “It’s the team, okay? I worry about that stupid team of yours.”

Gokudera had never voiced these thoughts before and now they hung heavily in the air, more real and foreboding than they had been in the corners of his mind. What would he do if Yamamoto was no longer allowed to play? If he was shunned by those he viewed as his comrades, those he practically _bled_ for? Although he doubted he would do something as foolishly rash as back then, he still remembered back in middle school, when Yamamoto had faced the possibility of never playing again.

Yamamoto would always undermine the importance of baseball for him, but there was no way for Gokudera not to notice. How could he not when he saw the way his eyes would glisten, the unconscious curve of his mouth and heard the boundless laughter dancing in his chest?

How could he possibly claim that happiness from him, rip it out of his gentle hands and tear it into despair?

At times he could understand why Yamamoto wanted it to be known and he wished for it too. To be able to walk beside each other without the tension of maybe being seen, to be able to have lunch together without minding the glances or harsh whispers, for Yamamoto to be able to talk with his friends without twisting the words in his mouth.

Yamamoto might not realize the overhanging threat himself, but Gokudera was no fool. And as long as he could ensure that Yamamoto remained within that bubble of endless mirth, Gokudera would stifle his own desire.

“Does Yamamoto enjoy this?” Gokudera looked up in surprise, Takeuchi completely forgotten in the midst of his inner turmoil. Realizing that he had not been listening, the baseball player let out a frustrated sigh and made a sweeping gesture with his hands. “This! You fretting on your own and making his decisions for him!”  
“I’m not-!” _No._ The words died in his mouth as Gokudera met the other’s harsh glare, a cold sensation settling in his gut as he realized that whatever words had been about to cross his lips would have been a lie. _No._ The sudden awareness left tremors in its wake and Gokudera flinched back from Takeuchi. _No._ He was acting just like _that man_ had done throughout his childhood. The same behavior that had turned shiny-eyed wonder into scorn and had led him to shed off his past, to abandon his sister and the one he could no longer call his father.  
“ _Whoa!_ Are you alright?” hesitant hands touched his shoulders. Gently they steered him to the side and pushed him down, dirt whirling into the air as his legs made contact with the ground.

Something cold and dripping with condensation was pressed into his hands before Takeuchi flopped down beside him. Gokudera blinked at the can of coffee he had been handed. He had not even noticed that the other had left.   
“Look. I’m not going to pry and I’m not good with words, but you and Yamamoto got to talk.” Takeuchi gave him a friendly pat on the back and stretched out in the grass. “Whatever this is, you shouldn’t just try to tackle it on your own. Yamamoto is strong and he _cares_ about you.”  
“I know.” _But he should not have to endure that because of me._ Takeuchi nudged him with his foot, presumably to get his attention, and Gokudera turned around to watch him. Determined eyes met his and for a moment they simply looked at each other. Then Takeuchi shook his head and let it fall back to the ground.  
“Just think about what Yamamoto would like.”

Gokudera remained seated on the ground long after Takeuchi had left him. He was probably missing second period by now. Playing with the grass beneath his fingers he gazed out over the part of the city that was visible from where he was seated. The coffee had lost its chill to the smothering heat, but he still gulped it down as watched the people treading up the mountain.

Maybe Takeuchi was right. What if he was only being silly about the whole ordeal?

He lay back on the grass and closed his eyes.

Did it matter?

He could hear people walking by and the song of cicadas drowning out any other background noises.

Did the concerns of these people that belonged to another world, a world that they soon would come to abandon, matter?

He could feel the roughness of the earth below him, the moist heat enfolding his body and the faint rustle of wind along the strands of grass.

Did anything but Yamamoto’s feelings matter?

_No._ Gokudera opened his eyes and stared at the clear sky. They had chosen this together, so why did he try to face it alone?

Pushing aside his stubbornness, he reached for his phone.

_[We’re lunching together]_ Gokudera stared at the message, thumb hovering over ‘send’. Recalling his conversation with Takeuchi, he hissed a curse at himself and rewrote it.  
[Let’s have lunch together] he was strangely nervous as he waited for Yamamoto’s reply. It was not _that_ rare, him asking for them to meet, and was not like Yamamoto had ever said no before. Still, there was a twinge of restlessness that would not dissipate as he fiddled with his phone.   
[ヽ(^o^)丿I guess you’re buying so see you behind the library??] Gokudera let out a long breath. Not even a minute had passed when the reply came. Of course Yamamoto would be so eager. About to type in a simple ‘yes’, Gokudera once again stopped to stare at the screen. _Think about what Yamamoto would like._  
[No. Let’s go to the cafeteria]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's up to date~  
> Unless something drastic happens, there should be 2 chapters left =)


	8. Day Four - part 2

Gokudera almost turned back when he saw how many students there already were in the cafeteria. _Almost_. Someone who apparently could not lift his eyes from his phone while walking through doors bumped into his back, efficiently making the decision for him as he was pushed into the building. He bit back some very eloquent profanities as the other simply continued walking, nose still inches from his screen, and stomped over to one of the vacant tables. Gokudera fumbled with his wallet and practically tore out his student id, slamming it onto the table. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath to calm himself. He did _not_ need to start snapping at Yamamoto as soon as he arrived. And it was not like he needed any more attention with the curious glances that were already being thrown his way.

Since he was eating with Yamamoto, choosing food was a lot harder than it usually was. He ended up picking the _balanced set_ of the day, grimacing slightly as he paid for it. It was not like Yamamoto was that picky, but he would always cast worried glances at Gokudera’s meal when he opted for a cheaper and less nutritious alternative. That often ended up with him coming over and stocking up Gokudera’s fridge, which in itself was not that bad of a thing since it usually involved Yamamoto staying over and cooking for him as well. It was just…

Sighing, he sat down by the table and waited for the other male while picking at his food. It was not Yamamoto’s fault, Gokudera knew that he was just being caring and all that shit. Even though Yamamoto would never see it that way, part of it made Gokudera feel even more useless, having to be taken care of like that.

He did not have to wait long before Yamamoto skidded in through the door, eyes shining with mirth as he spotted the Italian. Gokudera snorted at him and checked his phone. Second period had barely ended. Only Yamamoto would be so excited to have lunch that he ran all the way from class.

“Hey Dera.” Yamamoto’s features softened as he pulled out the chair next to Gokudera, dragging it closer before sitting down. Their knees touched under the table. Gokudera felt a smile tugging at his lips and leaned closer, jabbing the other male with his chopsticks.  
“There’s no need to rush here, idiot. I told you I’d be here.” He pointed out and turned to his food. His next words were added as more of an afterthought. “You look ridiculous like that.”  
“Yeah?” Yamamoto breathed out and the tone of his voice had Gokudera lifting his gaze again. He was met with half lidded eyes that slowly moved across his features. Before he could help himself, he leaned closer again, smirking at the wistful expression Yamamoto was sporting.  
“I said,” he began, voice lowering in a teasing manner. “That you-”

A startled gasp behind them brought him back to the cafeteria. _This is dangerous_ , he realized and jerked back in his seat. Yamamoto let out a nervous chuckle and reached for his lunchbox as Gokudera swirled around to look behind him. Two girls peered back at him, flushing deeply as they noticed that his attention on them. They immediately looked away, embarrassed giggles erupting at their table. Scoffing, Gokudera turned back to find a stack of extra food on his plate and Yamamoto smiling innocently at him. He just rolled his eyes and grabbed a piece of the offered tempura.

Contrary to himself, Yamamoto did not seem to mind the curios glances they were receiving. Instead, he filled the air with joyous banter as they ate. Gokudera would cut him off every now and then, but mostly remained silent.  
“You okay?” Yamamoto nudged his arm in the middle of retelling part of his baseball practice the other day. His body shifted ever so slightly and Gokudera could tell that his entire focus was aimed at him. Yamamoto had a way of doing that, acting as if the rest of the world had just faded away.  
“I’m fine.” Gokudera grumbled, shoving rice into his mouth. Chewing slowly he tried to remember what Yamamoto had been telling him. “Did you make one of those freakish home-runs again..?” he tried, upon which he received _that look_ , meaning that Yamamoto just as impressed as he was by his listless attempt at diverting the attention. “Okay, fine.” He bit out. Placing his elbow on the table, Gokudera rested his chin in his palm and nodded towards the other students in the cafeteria. “All this staring is pissing me off.”  
“We could leave if you like.” Yamamoto suggested, but Gokudera frowned and shook his head.

Admittedly, he told himself, the staring was not _that_ bad, just a few glances being thrown in their direction every now and then. He had been prepared for this when he sent that message and even though Yamamoto would politely refrain from saying anything, Gokudera could tell that this was really important to him.  
“Idiot.” Gokudera almost grimaced at the fondness that rang from that word alone. He might as well stand up on the table and wave his hand in everyone’s faces with the way he acted right now. “It’s not their fucking business anyw-” The surrounding tables suddenly grew silent and Gokudera trailed off as he noticed a girl approaching them. Or more like _strutted_.

As she arrived at their table, her eyes skimmed over Gokudera and she scoffed before leaning towards Yamamoto.  
“Why don’t you come over and sit with us instead? I’m sure we could offer you some more enjoyable company.” She said in an overly sweet tone and Gokudera shuddered in disgust. Did she think she was being cute? Could she not hear herself? She leaned even closer and lowered her voice to what she probably assumed to be a whisper. “I don’t know what that _foreigner_ has done to you, but you’re more than welcome to our table instead.” Gokudera’s fingers clenched around his chopsticks in anger and he was about to stand up at yell at her when one of Yamamoto’s hands found his knee under the table, squeezing it gently before pulling back.  
“I’m enjoying my current company very much.” There was a chill to Yamamoto’s voice that was usually reserved for less fortunate people in their _other_ life. Gokudera eyed him in surprise, not having expected to hear it now. There was a slight crease to Yamamoto’s brow and the previously genuine smile had morphed into one that usually turned his blood cold. “Would you excuse us?” The girl visibly stiffened in unease and Gokudera could not help the smirk that touched his lips. An indignant squeak left the girls mouth and it took a moment for her to regain her composure.  
“Well, I think you owe Ari-chan a proper apology for embarrassing her the other day.” She said to him, voice rising with irritation, and gestured to a table further away.  
“I apologized to Tanaka after you left, which I’m sure she has told you.” Yamamoto replied in a tone bordering on hostile. Gokudera felt the confusion written on his face as he stared at the Japanese male.

Sure, Yamamoto’s serious side would always surface if anyone spoke of Gokudera in such a manner, but why was he..? In a sudden moment of clarity, Gokudera realized that he recognized that name. He had been hearing it in the whispers of his course mates just the other day. _Her_.

A sudden flash of anger had him grinding his teeth together and Gokudera turned his gaze to the indicated table. In the small crowd he zoomed in on rosy cheeks and big doe eyes directed towards Yamamoto. He had to admit that she was what others would refer to as cute, pretty even, with her petite frame and long shiny hair. She gave Yamamoto a shy smile accompanied with a tiny wave of her fingers. Somehow Gokudera doubted that this frail creature had any hand in the rumors the other day. Anger subsiding somewhat, he shifted his gaze to Yamamoto, who only greeted her with a short nod.  
“We’d like to continue our lunch, so could you please leave us?” the fake smile still lingered on Yamamoto’s lips as he spoke. The girl seemed at a loss of words at this and instead gave Gokudera another once-over. He was acutely aware of how close they were sitting, the way their legs were touching and how Yamamoto was leaning towards him even now. Based on the way her nose wrinkled, the girl had noticed the same.  
“Fine, since he’s so _important_ to you.” She gave them a last look, unmistakably filled with disgust, and pranced away.

As soon as she had left Yamamoto turned to him with a apologetic expression.  
“I didn’t know they’d be here. Do you want to go?” Yes, he wanted to leave and pretend this never happened. Even more so he wanted to kiss Yamamoto right then and there, right in the face of that bitch. The obvious display of distaste had his blood boiling and there was way that he would give her the pleasure of running away.  
“No.” he gritted out. “I’m going to fucking shove this in her face.” This earned him a fond chuckle from Yamamoto, who then returned to his food, one foot brushing against the side of Gokudera’s leg. Huffing, Gokudera gave him a glare, but did not kick the foot away.

They parted ways outside of Gokudera’s department building. Surprisingly, Yamamoto said nothing about meeting up after class. Instead he offered a small smile and started to head back towards his part of the campus.  
“Oi, idiot!” Gokudera called to him. “My bike is parked behind the library. I’ll meet you there.” He stated in an offhand manner and pulled open the door. In response there was a peal of laugher in the air, loud and lively.

Gokudera did not miss the glances that were thrown his way as he entered the classroom. Not so unexpected, since he figured that quite a few of the other students had probably been present to witness the spectacle during lunch. He pretended not to notice, sitting down in the back of the room as usual. Whatever they had heard or seen, there was not much gossiping. Despite this Gokudera remained on edge throughout the lecture, subconsciously raising his shoulders and throwing suspicious glances around the room.

To his surprise lecture passed on uneventfully and so did the next one. He had lingered outside in the heat as long as he could before the fourth period started and the moment the bell signaled its end he grabbed his bag and hurried for the door. In the process of leaving the room Gokudera felt the impact of a palm on his shoulder, fingers squeezing ever so slightly before withdrawing. Cold panic coursed through his body and he felt his heartbeat dance erratically. He spun around, ready to curse of brawl or whatever the intruder of his personal space sought, but was only met with the retreating backs of his course mates.

In stunned silence he headed towards the library, unsuccessfully trying to determine the intention behind the gesture. Any thoughts of it, however, disappeared once he spotted Yamamoto. The baseball player had already unlocked his poor excuse of a bike and had his face turned towards the sky, basking in the sunlight that flitted through the foliage of the surrounding trees.  
“Hey.” Gokudera called, eyes trailing the upturned features as the shadows from the leafage danced across them. Yamamoto’s eyes slowly opened, facing the sky for a moment before turning to him. The smile stretched wider and his voice was soft with fondness as he spoke.  
“Hey.”

Heading home together after school had never felt so thrilling before, nor had it ever been so nerve-racking. For the first time Yamamoto had slung his arm around Gokudera’s shoulder away from the back alleys or the cover of darkness at night. He had done it casually, despite the odd glances, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. In a sense it was, Gokudera figured. They had been doing this for years after all.

Except for a few odd looks around the campus area they did not receive that much of a reaction as they headed for Gokudera’s apartment. Still, his posture remained tense, hands tightly clenched in his pockets, until they passed their usual meeting point. Once it was behind them, Gokudera found himself gradually relaxing, his previously stiff shoulders easing under Yamamoto’s touch.

Yamamoto was seemingly elated, laughter pouring from his lips as they walked. Not that it was especially different from his usual mood, but there was a slight bounce to his steps. As they neared the apartment complex, his grip on Gokudera grew more intimate and his nose brushed against the silver strands just behind his ear. This had them almost toppling over the bike and Gokudera cursed Yamamoto’s stupid, overeager hands. However, he could not help the chuckle that escaped his lips.

They barely made it through the apartment door before Gokudera grabbed Yamamoto’s shirt and pulled him down into a kiss. The response was immediate. Yamamoto’s free arm curled around his body, pulling him flush against him. Together they stumbled over the shoes littered inside and Gokudera found himself being pressed up against the door as it clicked shut. Yamamoto’s body moved against his, hands sliding up underneath his shirt with delightful heat and friction, lips trailing down the curve of his throat and teeth scraping against the delicate skin there. Gokudera’s hands found their way to Yamamoto’s hair, tangling deep in the dark locks. He gasped for air, heart stuttering in his chest as Yamamoto lavished his neck with kisses.

With a throaty sound of pleasure, Gokudera’s grip tightened and he pulled Yamamoto’s head up, bringing their lips together once more. He felt Yamamoto tremble against him, tasted his name on his lips and tongue as they brushed together. They parted momentarily and Yamamoto looked at him, gaze heavy with desire. One hand rose to caress Gokudera’s cheek, skimming over his lips, before he leaned forward to kiss him again. In silent agreement his hands found their way to the back of Gokudera’s thighs as he wrapped his legs around Yamamoto’s waist for support. He was pulled close, hands wrapping securely around his body and hurried footsteps echoed through the apartment. A breathy laugh escaped his lips as he tumbled backwards on the bed, pulling Yamamoto down with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was surprisingly difficult to write... I don't think I've ever rewritten a fanfiction so many times as I did with this chapter xS
> 
> Now there's just one chapter left~


	9. Day Five

“Hayato.” Yamamoto’s voice was low and soothing, just like his fingers that danced gently across the skin between his shoulders. Gokudera grumbled in response and buried deeper into the covers. He felt Yamamoto’s chest vibrate with a satisfied hum as his face nuzzled against the nape of Gokudera’s neck, lips brushing along the line of his hair before pressing a kiss to the bare skin just behind his ear. A shiver ran through Gokudera’s neck and shoulders, muscles flexing as his head tipped backwards. He tensed under Yamamoto’s touch, heart beating wildly in his chest.

The faint trail of a laugh ghosted against his ear.

His whole body jerked at the gentle touch, heat spreading across his face and down his chest. A flustered squawk left his lips as Yamamoto’s face pressed closer, warm hands wrapping around his torso and laughter ringing in his ear. Fingers dug softly into his sides and strong arms pulled him close, Yamamoto’s chest pressing against his back. Then Yamamoto rolled over, letting them fall back against the mattress.   
“Bastard.” Gokudera growled out and made a weak attempt to wriggle free. There was no bite in his voice, however, and the word sounded more like an endearment. He relaxed into Yamamoto’s hold, half turning to bury his face in the crook of his neck.  
“Good morning to you too, Hayato.” Yamamoto murmured against his shoulder, hands dipping lower and fingers tracing lazy circles against the curve of his hip. Gokudera felt his consciousness drifting to the steady heartbeat thrumming in his ear.

The next time he woke he could hear Yamamoto moving around in the kitchen. There was the telltale clinking of cups against the counter and the faint churning of the coffee machine. Yawning, Gokudera stretched out in bed and let his eyes follow the reflections dancing across the ceiling. When his mind had started to clear he stumbled out of bed, slipping on a random shirt hanging from his drawer and padded out to the kitchen area.  
“Morning.” Gokudera greeted, arms circling Yamamoto’s waist as he pressed his face against the skin of his back. He felt Yamamoto’s chest vibrate in silent mirth.  
“Coffee?” The question was laced with amusement. Grunting, Gokudera turned his head to see a hand holding out a cup for him.  
“Coffee.” He agreed and reluctantly detached himself from Yamamoto’s back.

As they left the apartment, Gokudera felt the familiar weight of Yamamoto’s arm around his shoulders. The baseball player gave him an almost sheepish glance, as if he did not do this every morning while they were still in the neighborhood.   
“Silly.” He muttered, bumping his head against Yamamoto’s shoulder. The smooth fabric of the other’s shirt brushed against his cheek as he turned to look at Yamamoto. He did not know what kind of expression he had made, but the other youth’s eyes crinkled and the small curve of his lips grew into a full, dazzling grin. Breath stuttering in his chest, Gokudera slowed down and grabbed the front of Yamamoto’s shirt. He pulled him close, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth before he started walking again. “Let’s go.”

Yamamoto’s arm lingered as they passed the convenience store, up the hill, past the other students, until they hesitantly parted, heading towards different parts of the campus. Gokudera voiced no complaints, despite the curious glances that increased as they approached the school grounds and the way it made their shirts stick to their skin, damp and prickling in the morning heat.

Fumbling with the lighter in his pocket, Gokudera watched Yamamoto until he disappeared behind the corner of one of the buildings. A fond smile tugged at his lips as Gokudera watched the slight spring in his steps.

This is what it should feel like.

This is what he wanted to see every day of his life.

Yamamoto with a silly little spring in his steps and an even sillier grin with crinkles at the corners of his eyes.

Today, he knew, would be different. Things had changed the day before, starting with that moment in the cafeteria, and the ripples left in its wake would not have stilled overnight.

Inside the classroom of his first class, a couple of the girls stood together, conversing in increasingly agitated voices. At first he was tempted to ignore them, but the increasing tension had most of the class turning to watch them. He looked on with a strange sense of fascination as they grew more animated in their dispute. Drawing out his chair, Gokudera sat down, but his attention remained focused on the heated conversation. Despite not being able to discern any words, he had a foreboding sensation settling in his stomach. Eventually, one of them seemed to grow tired of the bickering and slammed her palms against one of the tables.  
“Stop it! It’s their business!” She spat out. “If you’re so eager to know, just ask _him_.” She gestured animatedly in his direction, upon which they all spun around to look at him as if they had not realized he was there. The outburst earned him a few curious glances from the other students as well. Gokudera gave them a defiant glare in return, determined not to back down.

Just as it seemed as if one of them had mustered enough courage to approach him, the professor arrived and efficiently brought all discourse to an end. Gokudera deflated, momentarily sagging in his seat. This could not be good for his heart.

The moment class ended a handful of the girls walked towards his desk. Seeing the way one of them was trying to get a look at his hand, Gokudera made a movement as if to scratch his leg, casually picking his pen up with his other hand and continued writing down the last notes from the blackboard. The girls stopped a few desks from his and started whispering. Focusing on his notes, he tried ignoring the way his pulse sped up under their curious glances. None of them turned to speak to him, so Gokudera proceeded to collect his things and rise from his seat. To his surprise they had left when he looked up. Or rather, all but one, who lingered by the door.  
“Don’t mind them.” She suddenly spoke. Her gaze was fixed on something outside, but it was clear that the words were aimed at him. When she got no response, she continued. “I know it doesn’t excuse them, but those girls…” She paused and gave him a serious look. “Both Yoko and Wakana have been rejected by Yamamoto recently and while Tomiko has been too scared to actually do it, she’s wanted to ask you out.”   
“So?” Gokudera questioned as he swept back his hair, trying to play it casual and pretend like he knew who those names belonged to. She did not look convinced. He saw her throw a glance towards the hand buried in his silver strands, but her expression remained unchanged.   
“I don’t care what kind of relationship you have with Yamamoto, but please try to understand why they are upset.”

He could not help the way he stiffened at her words, because she _knew_. There was no way that she did not. Despite her display of disinterest, the tone of her voice and the way her eyes flickered towards his hand as she spoke made it clear what she believed.  
“Relax, I just said that I don’t care.” She snorted as if she believed him to be acting silly. Maybe he was. “Despite what those girls made it seem like, it’s not like that many people actually care enough to be gossiping about you.” Somewhat offended, Gokudera opened his mouth to give her a snarky reply, but she waved him off with an irritated look. “Geeze, don’t give me that angry stare thing you do. I was just trying to be nice since you seemed so stressed.” With that she turned on her heel and left. Gokudera stood alone in the classroom, staring at the spot she had occupied.

Maybe she was right.

What if he was reading too much into everything?

With that in mind, the second period proved to be much calmer. There were a few glances being thrown his way as took a seat in the back of the room, but it felt different somehow, like the air had shifted. He still received an occasional look here and there or heard the hushed syllables of his name, but there was no silent judgment in their eyes, no harshness to their voices.

For the first time in days, he found himself relaxing, with the words on the board blurring until they became indistinguishable and the sounds of his fellow classmates merging into a faint background buzz.

The sound of the bell brought him back to consciousness and during a moment of confusion he watched as the other students strolled out of the room. He looked down at his empty notebook and then back up at the equally empty board. Letting his head drop against the table, Gokudera groaned to himself.

After having caught up with the professor in the hallway and confirming what kind of assignment they had for next week, Gokudera decided that he needed to eat his lunch in peace. Maybe he could take a small nap afterwards. He preferred not missing any more lectures this week.

Apparently he arrived to the study room just as Yamamoto’s group had settled down, because he had barely taken a seat and opened his lunchbox before the air outside grew tense. He gave the window a wary look and started eating. Someone awkwardly cleared their throat.

For a moment Gokudera thought that it was going to stay like that, an awkward silence hanging in the air. He tried to ignore it, focusing more on the bento that Yamamoto had prepared for him. Then one of them spoke up.  
“So, Yamamoto, don’t take this the wrong way.” he started, pausing to seemingly gauge Yamamoto’s reaction. Gokudera’s hand froze with the chopsticks halfway into his mouth as his focus zoomed in on the conversation outside. “Are you perhaps gay?” he practically inhaled his rice, hacking as it went down his windpipe. As he fumbled with his bottled water, he almost missed the reply.  
 “No.” Yamamoto’s voice was so firm that it left no room for questioning. Gokudera almost dropped the bottle, spilling water all over his face, but he paid no notice. _WHAT?!_ He had been expecting the answer, but not with such sincerity. That one syllable filled him with a sense of betrayal unlike anything he had experienced before. It was like a physical blow, sending tremors down his body and he had to grab onto the table edge to steady himself. He felt sick.

Knuckles whitening from his grip, he gritted his teeth in order not to curse out loud. After all of this, _that_ was what he was telling his friends? Oh, he was going to-  
“More like bi I guess? I’m mostly attracted to women, but there are some guys too…” A somewhat flustered laugh rang through the air and Gokudera slumped back against the backrest, hands covering his face in exasperation. He let out a low groan, cursing himself for not anticipating the answer. It was so typically Yamamoto and to make things worse, it did make sense. Hell, he _knew_ that Yamamoto was not attracted solely to males. Why did he keep on doing this to himself?

There was an uncomfortable silence before one of the others spoke up, a thoughtful “I see” cutting through the quietness.  
 “Does that mean that you’re dating a guy?” one of them asked, probably eyeing Yamamoto carefully before he continued. “There’s this whole thing with Gokudera…” he trailed off, but one of the others quickly interjected.  
“Stop skirting around it. It’s not like they were being discrete yesterday and from what I’ve heard Gokudera pretty much confirmed it already.”  
“Like hell I did!” the words were out before he had the chance to stop himself. _Oh crap_. He briefly wondered whether it was too late to get the hell out of there.

“Dera?” Yamamoto was standing outside the window, forehead against the glass and hands shielding away the sunlight as he tried to look inside. “You in there?” silently reprimanding himself Gokudera marched over to the window, unhinging it and slamming it open. The pained groan that Yamamoto let out as the window smacked him in the face was extremely satisfying.  
“Yes, I’m fucking in here.” He sent a glare in Yamamoto’s direction and rested his elbows against the window seal, resting his chin against one hand. “Now can you stop gossiping like damn schoolgirls?” he tried ignoring the fact that it was evident that he had been listening in on them, but his cheeks were heating up and he knew he was not fooling anyone. Yamamoto’s friends were staring at him, baffled looks on their faces.  
“Uh, is it true then?” one of them spoke up and Gokudera averted his gaze, feeling their prying eyes on him. He dared a glance at Yamamoto, who was watching him intently, and sighed.  
“Oh, what the hell…” he knew he would regret this later, but with all that had happened, it did not seem like they would believe him anyway if he denied it. “Yes, it’s true. Now will you sto-” hands were on his cheeks and he was being pulled up, lips pressed against his own. He felt his eyes go wide in surprise and he firmly pushed Yamamoto away from him. “Oi!” he spluttered, keeping the other male at an arm’s length. “There’s no need to get so touchy!” Yamamoto did not seem to mind his harsh words, in fact he was practically beaming down at him with a grin wider than he had seen before. Gokudera sank back down, burying his face in his hands. “Stop looking so goddamn happy. Idiot.” If he was not red before he sure was now. It felt as if someone had lit his cheeks on fire and he wished he could just crawl back into the room, close the window and pretend like this had never happened.

“Ah, well, there you have it.” Yamamoto let out another awkward laugh and rubbed the back of his neck. Gokudera refused to look at the others, not wanting to see the disgust that they were bound to be feeling right now.  
“Pfft.” His eyes shot up at the unexpected sound, only to see that Yamamoto’s friends were looking more amused than anything. “Oh, please you guys, I’m getting embarrassed just looking at you.” The one that had spoken chuckled cheerfully and the others soon joined him. Gokudera watched them incredulously as they then turned their attention back to their lunches.  
“Are you joining?” One of them asked, grabbing his lunchbox as if he was ready to scoot to the side.  
“Yes?” Gokudera surprised himself with the question, but all of a sudden the prospect of retreating back into the small room and spending the rest of his meal in solitude did not look as tempting as before.  
 “Of course!” Yamamoto laughed, wholeheartedly this time, and Gokudera could not help the way his lips curved upwards as he went to grab his lunch.

“So, are you coming to watch us practice after class?” Takeuchi asked him curiously and Gokudera could see the others throwing less than inconspicuous grins towards Yamamoto.  
“Got work.” Gokudera replied as he shoved more rice into his mouth. Maybe he should ditch, go there to make sure. Make sure that things were still the same as before, that the admiration had not turned to disgust, that the team would not turn their backs on Yamamoto, that he still belonged there.

Almost as if he had voiced his thoughts out loud, hands squeezed his shoulders along with the words “We’ll have his back”. He must have been relaxing more than he thought if it had showed on his face.

Looking up at their determined faces, Gokudera let himself believe.

_Maybe it was going to be alright._

 “Hey, Takecchi said Nonaka will come and cheer for us on Sunday!” one of them called out and cheers erupted around the table. Takeuchi looked suitably flustered, but despite his attempts at hiding it, the corners of his mouth curled upwards in a pleased smile. So that was what she was called. Maybe it was time to should stop calling her ‘crazy chic’ in his head now. After all, she had seemed more reasonable the last time he had seen her.  
“Ah, the bliss of having a girlfriend…” the youth beside him sighed wistfully, bringing him out of his musings. “Are you coming too?” He asked as he turned to Gokudera. He was going to say no, he really was, but then his eyes flickered over to Yamamoto and he felt his heart stutter at the way his features brightened with hope.

“Yes.” The word tumbled over his lips and he stared at his lunch, unable to look at Yamamoto. He did not, however, pull away from the foot that nudged his under the table.

Gokudera smiled, brightly, lightheartedly. When Yamamoto switched seats and sat down next to him, Gokudera leant into his side and he found himself engaging in their conversations, laughing unreservedly at their jokes.

As the lunch break neared its end and the group of friends prepared to head to their respective classes, Yamamoto lingered behind, waiting as Gokudera crawled back through the window to retrieve his bag  
“I’ll wait for you when your shift ends?” he asked, leaning forward to press their foreheads together and giving Gokudera a fond smile.  
“Yeah.” He breathed, dismissing the small voice that told him that _Fujioka was going to have a fieldtrip_ , in favor of reaching out to brush his fingers against Yamamoto’s.

_Maybe_ , Gokudera though as Yamamoto pressed his lips against the corner of his mouth and waved cheerfully as he ran to catch up with his friends, _this had not been such a bad idea after all_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh, it's finally done!
> 
> This chapter changed quite a bit from how it was originally, but I think the current tone fits this story better.
> 
> I'd like to thank everyone who took their time to read this story!


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